


The Final Cut

by ScytheTheHero



Series: Can Anyone Be Forgiven [2]
Category: Ready or Not (2019)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26810227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScytheTheHero/pseuds/ScytheTheHero
Summary: Charity didn't mean to fall in love. She especially didn't mean to fall in love with Daniel Le Domas. This is her story, in the same universe as my story "Purgatory."
Relationships: Alex Le Domas/Daniel Le Domas, Alex Le Domas/Grace Le Domas, Charity Le Domas/Daniel Le Domas
Series: Can Anyone Be Forgiven [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955374
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	The Final Cut

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't leave Charity's story untold.
> 
> Warnings: alcoholism, child abuse (neglect, sexual), ritualism, incest, angst with a bittersweet ending

_If I open my heart to you, and show you my weak side, what would you do?_

If Charity had been homeschooled, it would have taken her much longer to realize she was poor. Changing your clothes every day, and showering every day because the water was on, was an unspoken rule to children ( _and a generally spoken rule to adults who looked at her last name, recognized it as belonging to the man in her house, and ignored her except to look in pity_ ). Children are cruel in an honest way, not having learned how to be malicious yet.

“Why do you always wear that shirt? It looks grey.”

“My mom just bought me shoes when mine got a hole in them. Why don’t you do that?”

“Why does the school always give you a cheese sandwich instead of what we get?”

Why, why, why, why, why?

_One_ , the gambling alcoholic she would one day refuse to call her father. Maybe he wouldn’t gamble if his best friend wasn’t Jim Beam. Maybe he wouldn’t drink if he would just win once in a-damn-while. Maybe he could be more than a source of rage and pain if he wasn’t who he was.

_Two_ , her meek, mouse-ish, pious Mother who she loved more than anyone in the world. She was constantly humming and would brush her hair every morning and made sure her blankets were tucked up under her chin each night. That’s not to say she was perfect. Divorce was an unthinkable word in Mother’s world. No matter how many times they would have boiled cabbage, then cabbage soup, then cabbage broth, then nothing until this week’s pay day. No matter how the gambler’s yelling would shake the thin walls. Divorce was not Godly and that’s what Mother cared about. Every Sunday, 10% of their already below the poverty line paycheck would disappear into the collection plate. A tithe for the people who _really need the help Charity._ She used to dream of taking from the collection plate. Used to dream of sandwiches that she saw at school, more than butter and salt in the middle. Of fresh fruit that didn’t already have mold on it when they bought it on sale. _Why give her the name Charity if you were unwilling to accept it?_ As she gets older, she recognizes that every act of charity demands a price.

_Lastly_ , the vampire that lives upstairs; her brother, Matthew. His lungs filled with thick and sticky mucus that expensive doctors and nurses would help him manage. Charity used to sneak into his room and tell him stories of her days and of her friends at school. Used to believe that the money going to his care was worth it, was worth empty bellies and cold feet, because Mother said so. She’s forgotten the exact shape of his face or the color of his eyes, but she remembers the kindness in his smile. Too big for his sunken face and looks painful, but it was always genuine.

It was autumn. Charity hates the fall; hates how the world is dying around everyone, but people get too caught up in the pretty leaves and the holiday season. It’s Sunday. Her mother is humming gospel songs and brushing her hair. Dinner the night before for the both of them had been bread and butter. Charity had had the last of the butter, had tried to offer it to Mother, but she had just kissed her forehead and continued eating the plain white bread. They were both excited for the after church lunch. John and his pretty wife with her long hair from down the street had told them they were bringing macaroni and cheese with SPAM in it, a luxury that they sometimes had for Christmas. It was almost perfect, but then Mother began coughing and red appeared on her lips and onto the mirror.

In the winter, the world is dead and so is her Mother.

Matthew died soon after. The alcoholic didn’t think his children were worth his drinking or his gambling money. The doctors and the nurses disappeared, but the mucus in Matthew’s lungs doubled, then tripled, until it filled his lungs and he drowned in it. It was still winter when they buried Matthew. The ground was frozen and the gravediggers cursed under their breath as they dug the hole that would house her only brother.

Charity was nine when she first noticed men looking at her. She’s sure there were more when she was younger, but nine is when she saw the capacity some men had for lust and for greed.The angry man would always send her grocery shopping by herself. She got quite good at clipping coupons and finding bargains, just like Mother taught her. She was in the freezer section, reaching above her head for the store brand waffles ( _box of 24, two for the price of one, and the damaged one she was reaching for would surely be marked down_ ), when a man reached above her and handed her the box of waffles. She turned to thank him, but his eyes weren’t on her face. Her thin t-shirt, her lack of money for a training bra, and the freezer section created quite a combination apparently. She hurried home. She told the man. And he considered her useful at last.

She supposes it’s a blessing he never touched her himself. A small one, because he still locked the door behind him when he let another man into her room for a fistful of cash. In a small town, everyone knows, but they do nothing ( _especially when the people investigating partake themselves_ ). School is a refuge even as children learn to be maliciously cruel. She studies until she feels her brain is going to break, cons tips out of the johns that she hides away in various places around her room, develops the mask that she’ll need when she makes it out of this house and into the real world.

Charity accepts a full-ride scholarship to Stanford. The bright California sun puts some color on her skin. A work-study for the university pays for a small studio apartment a short walk away from campus. She majors in Civil Engineering, with a minor in Business Administration. She wants to make enough money to never worry again. She almost salivates at the thought of eating something besides ramen noodles, Cheerios, and eggs. _One day, I’ll be so rich that I’ll be powerful_ , she prays to herself. Prayer a refuge that reminds her of Mother and Matthew. Reminds her of kind people who put extra food on her plate and gave her their daughters old clothes. God, maybe He’s a lie, but her faith got her through her childhood which is more than many people’s do.

Daniel Le Domas looks like he’s trying not to let people know he’s rich. He sits in the middle of their Economics class, wearing a Pink Floyd shirt and ripped jeans that Charity knows could pay her rent for a month. There are other rich boys in the class, they make eyes at her and smile with straight white teeth, but Daniel is the only one who’s trying to pretend he’s something he’s not. She sits by him after one too many frat boys puts his hand on her leg during class. Daniel shares his gum with her and asks her for dinner at the end of the semester.

“I don’t want you to feel, like, obligated.” And she says yes. She rationalizes it that she knows he’ll buy her a dinner that will probably last her for days, but she likes the blush on his cheeks and neck, no matter what she tells herself.

Their first date is at some stupid chain restaurant and Charity cannot believe that they would charge $15 for a salad, when the burger comes with two sides and is only $13 ( _only, it’s not like she could afford to eat her without someone else footing the bill_ ). Daniel is awkward. He tells her that he hasn’t been on many dates. “Why me then?” She likes how he takes his time to form his answer. “You know who I am,” she nods, “but you don’t care. You don’t think I’m better than you or you’re better than me. I’m Daniel to you instead of a Le Domas.” And she smiles at him, because he’s right.

“I can start calling you Danny if you want.” And he chokes out a laugh, “What the fuck? No, that’s awful.” And then she’s laughing and snorting and he’s laughing at her snort and she thinks that, maybe, they could keep seeing each other.

Charity calls him Danny and she thinks she’s the only one who’s ever done it. She cuddles him in her arms as he tells her stories from his childhood. She makes him laugh every time after he gets off the phone, yelling at his father, his mother, his sister. She cleans him up after every alcohol binge and doesn’t judge him as she wipes tears from his eyes. Danny carves a spot for himself in her life and she knows he’s the only one who’s ever done that. He fills her apartment with flowers that have meanings that he whispers to her as they make love. He fills her fridge and pantry with groceries ( _“I stay here so often, it’s only fair_ ”). He sings classic rock songs under his breath as he makes her coffee in the morning before class and work. She loves him as easily as breathing. She can’t imagine her life without him. Trusts him more than she’s trusted anyone ever, but she still hears warnings in her head as he tries to give her gifts. As he tries to pay for her rent. _Everything has a price; are you willing to pay it?_

They’ve been together 8 years and she cries as she asks him why he won’t marry her. She asks him if he wants a prenup, that she’ll sign anything if she could be his wife. There have been discussions over the years, they’ve attended weddings together, but this was the first time she had cried. He leaves the apartment, promising he’ll come back. She doesn’t sit the entire time he’s gone. She cleans the entire apartment. Alphabetizes their books. Puts on one of his vinyls, then takes it off.

When he comes back, he’s the drunkest she’s ever seen him. He tells her about the curse. About Charles. About how his mother’s pride is earned. She holds him as he passes out in her bed and she wonders what price she’s willing to pay for him.

Charity buys a gun. It’s small and silver and it fits in her favorite purse. She goes to the range and practices until she’s accurate, even when she fires quickly. When she walks into their apartment the night she hit 10/10, she tells Daniel she wants to marry him anyway. 

“This will be the one time I’ll take the gamble.”

Later, she wonders if she had been more honest ( _I would kill your family without the card for what they’ve done to you. Broken you into a man afraid to love because you think I’ll leave. I’d kill your family to prove I would never leave you. I would kill them if it meant I could be with you forever. You’re the only man who’s ever made me laugh besides my dead brother and I’ll rip their throats out with my teeth and kiss you with the blood still on them because I’ve loved you since I knew I was still capable of it_ ) if things would have gone the same way.

Planning a wedding seems like a trip. She’s still not sure if it’s real. She meets Emily and Becky for the first time as she invites them to go dress shopping. Emily, sweet kid, but her coke habit was going to ruin her life one day. _Maybe that’s why Becky was so cold_ , she thinks, but deep in her heart Charity realizes that Becky sees her as a gold-digging whore taking advantage of her drunkard son. Despite the disappointment that she’ll remain Motherless, the shopping goes well enough. She’s nervous and her edges are sharp enough to cut and she wonders if they realize that Danny does this too. The dress is beautiful and flowy without making her seem like a princess in a film. Becky buys the dress for her and out of spite she lets her.

She wanted to have the wedding in a church, but she was told that wasn’t an option. The wedding would be held on the grounds. The Le Domas family allowed her to find a preacher to marry them, but they allowed it with distaste and it made them dislike her more. She tried to rely on Danny, but he was drunk more often than not. Reminded her of the alcoholic. She pushed away her feelings on it, put them in a box that she could deal with after the wedding. After the game.

Danny sneaks into her dressing room before the wedding. He doesn’t smell like alcohol and his eyes are clearer than they’ve been in a long while. He takes her hand and offers to take her away, anywhere she wants to go. They could be anything they want to be. “I want to be a Le Domas.” If she had realized that statement was their relationship’s execution order she would have said, “I want to be your wife. I want to be your family. I’m better for you than the monsters who raised you and you’re better for me than mine. I want to be your partner and to do that, I want to be your wife.” But she doesn’t. And Danny hides his broken heart because he still loves her, despite everything. So he kisses her, hands finding her hips as her hands graze up his chest. It feels like one of their first, the passion in it. She tells him she loves him and he says it back, but already she wonders if he still means it.

The ceremony is beautiful and the preacher is kind. The reception is full of people she can feel looking down at her and she promises to prove them wrong. Their first dance is to “Thank You,” by Led Zeppelin and Charity wonders if he remembers that it was playing the very first time they made love. The first time she chose to bring someone into her bed, not for money, not for the flowers, but for the way either of them laughing would make the other laugh, for the way he covered her with her grandmother’s blanket if she fell asleep on the couch, for the way he never ran away when she was lost and she would flinch away from his touch. _If the sun refuses to rise and I draw the card later, I will still love you to the end of my days, whether they’re here or somewhere else,_ she thinks desperately, hoping he’ll know. His arms are warm and steady, but she’ll never know if he does.

The Game Room is huge. Opulent. A representation of the Le Domas family. You can tell that the room is hardly ever used, but there’s no dust. Cleanliness is next to Godliness, but maybe that’s a virtue that God and Satan share; she wouldn’t know.

As Charity is handed the box, she says her final prayer. She doesn’t ask for forgiveness. She knows that it isn’t something she deserves after making her choices. She asks God that if she draws the card, Danny will be safe. She gives away the last thing she has of her mother as she opens her eyes and reads, “Chess.”

It’s anticlimactic. She beats most of them ( _everyone, but Tony and Becky_ ). Emily too unfocused, Fitch’s concentration on her breasts, Daniel sits long enough to knock his king over before he starts to drink in the corner, and then there is Alex.

Danny talks about Alex constantly. The perfect son, the perfect brother. He looks like a thumb and his eyes remind her of the johns who liked it when she cried. He plays carelessly and asks her pointed questions that she realizes comes from the belief that she’s only with Daniel for his money. She answers his questions with a smile that is all teeth and a tone that would make her own Mother believe she was a golddigger. Their chess game ends with a mutual dislike of one another, but it hurts that obviously Danny didn’t tell anyone in his family, not even his favorite brother, that she’s anything more than a whore trapping him into a marriage he never wanted.

She puts the hurt away, right next to her feelings about Danny’s drinking, as he shows her to their room. She waggles her eyebrows at him and grabs his hand, but he shakes her off. Tells her he’ll be back after talking to Alex. After two hours, Charity pulls the map he had given her out of her purse ( _just in case_ ). She stalks the halls of the mansion, trying to find her husband, clutching the purse that still holds a gun to her chest ( _just in case_ ). She finds them on the top floor in a small bedroom sharing a bed much too small for two grown men. They’re both asleep, bodies tangled together, their shirtless chests covered in scratch marks. Her hand is on the gun and she considers it. Either way, she knows she’s going to burn, but Danny turns over and his face is peaceful in a way it hadn’t been since he had told her about the curse ( _since he had agreed to marry her_ ).

Charity goes back to what was supposed to be their room for the night. She’s still in her beautiful dress. Her back is against the headboard and she’s contemplating the taste of metal and wonders if she’ll burn twice over.

The gun clicks.

She sobs and realizes that she hadn’t loaded it. She doesn’t know if she’s thankful.

Daniel is there when she wakes up. The hurt is devouring her heart, scratching her open from the inside. She’ll pretend and maybe that’ll make it hurt less. He’s just another john. The only john stupid enough to be caught in her stupid golddigging clutches. She gets up and makes herself a drink. It burns down her throat and she wonders if the bullet actually went through her because she is in Hell.

Charity had worked really hard for her job. Had worn the powersuits and the heels and had stepped on anyone stupid enough to be in her way on her path to success. She quits it in the years after the wedding. After the hurt has cooled and become a dull ache. She thinks that if she’s home more, maybe she’ll actually get to talk to Daniel when he comes home from the job he hates. When he comes home, he’s drunk, or mean, or both. She called him a drunk once and he had just toasted her. The husband she would have killed for slowly turned into a stranger.

Without the job, she cleans and redecorates the house. It seems like every week the entire house is redesigned. Daniel either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He’s stopped talking to her unless she gambles with his mood and tries to talk to him.

About a month before Alex’s wedding, she fakes an affair. Does he still care at all? He congratulates her and moves into an apartment, something farther away than the guest room he had moved into after their wedding.

Each ritual, each sacrificed goat, she wonders what kind of deal she would have to make to get her Danny back. She wonders if the price would be worth it ( _of course it would be_ ).

The night before the wedding, Charity’s smile feels brittle and she drinks to cover up the painful fact that she hates almost everyone in the room. Daniel refills her drink and that almost feels like progress, but he keeps drinking as she asks if he wants to go to bed. The bed she chooses is far away from her disastrous wedding suite, but the mansion makes her uncomfortable and her sleep is uneasy.

The morning of the wedding she fields questions about Daniel’s whereabouts with ease ( _he’s probably drinking somewhere. You know how he is_ ). She meets Grace and reads her easy enough. A poor kid, but a regular one, with food stamps and hand-me-downs, not with pimps and cockroaches. The envy she feels hits her sharper than expected. Becky and Alex radiate disapproval as if it’s her fault that Daniel has disappeared from _this_ wedding. If anyone’s at fault, it’s Alex, but she can’t say that in front of this oblivious little blonde who definitely doesn’t know the family of monsters she’s joining. In another life, she catches a drunk Daniel eyeing Grace’s tits and wishes death upon her in a way she wants to feel bad about. In this life, Daniel is gone and all Charity feels is pity for this lost lamb.

Daniel comes back after the card is drawn, says dryly that he “wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He seems different than the Daniel she’s become used to. He catches her eye and squeezes her hand as he passes. It would be depressing to count the years since he had touched her in any type of affectionate way ( _here she tries not to think of how sometimes he would touch her, but only when he was drunk and only with the lights off. She tries not to think about how that was better than the nothing she got the rest of the time_ ). Maybe the lack of alcohol is why this doesn’t seem like her husband. If anything, it reminds her of college. Back when she would take care of a stressed boyfriend during finals week. Where he worked so hard to get that familial approval and was so tired, that at the end of the day he would kiss her once and fall asleep in their bed almost immediately. This Daniel looks like he hasn’t slept well in days and she pushes down the Charity inside that wants to make him tea.

When Stevens is driving back and they’re all gathered in front of the screen, Daniel hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her away from the group. He kisses her, hard, and suddenly she’s angry. She beats his chest, but he smiles at her and his eyes are clear. “He crashes. I’ll get her. I love you.” He kisses her again and she wants to say it back, but he’s gone. When Stevens crashes she wonders if he meant it.

Pity for the lamb because she had become a lion, biting those who had wished for her slaughter. She vomits blood, watching Danny take Grace from the room, and she wonders if this was the deal she made. As she chokes on her own blood, as she hits the floor and lands in Emily’s vomit, she thinks that he did love her in the end. She thinks of Danny, smiling and singing Pink Floyd in her studio apartment, before she was a Le Domas.

_Now I have seen the warnings, screaming from all sides_

_It’s easy to ignore them, God knows I’ve tried_

_All of this temptation, you know it turned my faith to lies_

_Until I couldn’t see the danger or hear the rising tides_

A voice asks, “Can you forgive?” She has questions, who and why and what did they do, but her mouth speaks before her brain, “Yes.”

It is springtime. The flowers and the trees are alive. The sun is out. Mother is humming. She smiles as she cries and contemplates redemption.


End file.
